Autumnal

Three nights ago there was a harvest moon. Two nights ago, belated, I finally went out to look at the moon with my kids. Full and bright, to be sure, and its seas were visible as a reptile squirming in its egg. But it was no brighter than many other full moons. Nonetheless, the evening was important, because after a day of 86 we opened the windows to the cool, and had to think what that sound was: dead leaves running before the wind, clattering down the pavement. I’m calling it the first night of autumn, no matter how the calendar may construe things.